Somehow, Ginny made it through the rest of the day without collapsing. Astoria was with her whenever they shared a class, otherwise she was alone. Colin still hadn't returned from the hospital wing. As she sat through class after class, she could feel her mind clamouring, demanding that she recognised what horrors she had only just escaped. It hurt almost as much as keeping Snape's accusations out.
Only when she draped the cloak over her and when she was halfway a corridor to the Room of Requirement, did it struck. It began as a small tremor in her right hand. She willed it to still, gritted her teeth and could feel a tingle spread through her brain as she tried to hold it. A groan escaped her, and then she sunk to her knees as her whole right side began to tremble. She rolled to the floor, desperately trying to keep the cloak around her so no one could at least seen.
The stone of Hogwarts faded, replaced by the cool darkness of the department of Mysteries. There were footsteps in the distance, and a song sung in an insane, childish voice. She could hear shrieks and spellfire, could smell blood and fear.
She could still feel Rookwood's spell on her, how with a single flick of his wand he had transformed her in a mindless puppet. At the Department of Mysteries, they had all fought him. Now he had just toyed with her. And that had only been his opening move. What had happened had he searched her mind? Would he have done as Snape had warned her? Would he have left her a broken shell?
Ginny, Ginny, Ginny… I would have never allowed that, Tom reassured her. If you think Rookwood can even hold a candle to me…
And Snape had been right, Merlin she hated that. Admittedly, she wasn't the only one holding those secrets. Bill and Fleur knew, but even then… There was a Horcrux here at Hogwarts, she knew it, and she was the only one in a position to find it. But she couldn't even accomplish that of course. All she'd achieved was a pointless gesture, a Basilisk skull. Had anyone really cared about that?
I'm glad you're here, Gin.
Harry would have appreciated it, even if he'd have hated the attention it had called to his earlier accomplishments. He had never been one to pass up a chance for pointless gestures of defiance. Like shouting at Umbridge in class, or all those fights he picked with Malfoy. Or his interview for the Quibbler. People had loved it, and he had just sat there, squirming and suffering under the attention.
Somehow, the tremors had faded, so slowly she hadn't even noticed them stopping. But they were gone, and she could feel the cold Hogwarts stone again. And the footsteps she heard in the distance were too hurried, the cries too excited, to be Death Eaters.
Instead, two young Gryffindors came skidding around the corner, trying and failing to hold their laughter. One was clutching some sort of tall metal can, something she vaguely recalled being a spray can. Fred and George had used one of those to paint crude declarations all over Ottery St Catchpole, until their dad had confiscated it. Somehow, it had exploded in his hands, leaving his whole face and body covered in red paint. They'd all laughed until they looked as red as their dad. Ron had nearly fainted…
Ron would have appreciated the basilisk skull too, she just knew it. Fuck Snape and his cold logic. He didn't understand that most people weren't as cold as he was. That they could still find hope in a rash gesture.
Like the two Gryffindors before her. They were giggling as they spray-painted a basilisk skull on a wall. When she saw the subtext, she had to struggle to keep quiet under her cloak.
You know who killed my basilisk? Eat snake shit Rookwood
Fine, it was a tad crude. But the two Gryffindors couldn't be older than thirteen—Muggleborn too—and at that age, especially for boys, that was the pinnacle of wit. And far more valuable was the laughter. She couldn't erase what had happened to Colin, but she could give them courage again.
A deep voice cut across the laughter. "I do believe that qualifies as vandalism."
The two boys froze, the laughter dying in their throats as a Death Eater walked around the corner, twirling his wand between his fingers. It was the tall one again, the one who had mocked Sporut in class: Thorfinn Rowle.
"You two are in so much trouble. Defacing the castle and ridiculing our newest Professor?" His smile was cruel. "He was so sure his previous example had been sufficient. Fortunately, he never minds a repeat performance."
One of the boys broke into a run.
"Incarcerous!" Rowle's wand moved in a flash, showing why he'd made it onto the top wanted list of the Ministry, before it had been silently retracted and replaced by one that named many a member of the Order of the Phoenix. The ropes caught the boy just before he reached the end of the corridor. He slammed into the stone hard, right in front of Ginny's feet. His nose made a horrible crunching noise as it broke.
"You really shouldn't have tried to run. Will you try it too?" he asked the other boy, who trembled as he shook his head in denial. "Are you sure?" Rowle pressed.
"Yes, yes Sir," the poor kid stammered.
"I don't believe it." Rowle flicked his wand. He had cast nonverbally, but the horrible crack the boy's leg made as the spell connected told Ginny it had been a bludgeoning curse. "You might think I enjoy this. You might be right." Rowle tapped his wand against his lips. "Yes, I think you're right. Let's do that again"
She could hear Snape chiding her already. She remembered that she'd promised her dad to keep her head down too. But Merlin, Harry wouldn't have stood for this either. And neither would she.
"Stupefy!"
Rowle tumbled backwards and hit the floor hard. Great duellist or not, there wasn't much he could do when attacked from beneath an invisibility cloak. Harry was still looking out for her.
Cowardly, but effective, I'll concede that much. Almost Slytherin, really, Tom chuckled.
"Peeves?" One of the boys whimpered in confusion.
"Almost," Ginny said as she took off the cloak and took in the two boys. They both needed to see Madam Pomfrey. But that still left Rowle, who would only be more pissed he'd so easily been subdued.
It's simple, really. You kill him. Come on.
He was knocked out cold. No longer a threat.
For now. And you know what he'll do when he awakes. He'll take his vengeance on those two kids.
She pointed her wand at the still Death Eater. During war, the laws are silent… hadn't Hermione once quoted something among those lines? In disdain though.
This is where you draw the line? They killed your friends.
Harry wouldn't have done it.
Your family.
He'd always turned the other cheek.
And they killed him for it.
She raised her wand, her hand trembling again as the scars burned, screamed. There were plenty of spells that could do the trick. Maybe one out of Rookwood's own book? That'd show him just how well they'd taken in her lessons.
"Miss Weasley?"
She started and looked up. At the end of the corridor stood a particularly horrified Slughorn, holding a steaming mug in one hand and his wand in the other. She quickly lowered her wand, like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
"Professor, I—"
"These dreams of mine keep getting stranger," Slughorn interrupted her. "But I suppose I better go along with it. I suppose, if I take you two to the infirmary, you two won't mention you've seen me sleepwalking, would you?" he asked the two trembling boys. Both shook their head in denial.
Ginny wondered who Slughorn thought he was fooling with that ridiculous charade. Still, the terror in his voice was audible; perhaps it was more an act for his own sake than anyone else's. He had taught Tom riddle and witnessed the First War. Few would be as aware of the risks as he. And still he had given her the memory. And still he was helping. Unexpected warmth for the man flooded her. In their own way, they were all trying their best.
Slughorn flicked his wand at them and Ginny could see bones straighten and the nose took its original place again with a painful-sounding crack. "On your feet, this should get you to Pomfrey at least." His eyes fell on the graffiti and a smile crept across his face. "As Head of Slytherin, I'm supposed to be biased. Good thing this is a dream and I can do whatever I want. Ten points to Gryffindor."
Next, his gaze shifted to Rowle and Ginny could see the gears turning inside his head. Was he doing the same balancing act as her? Slughorn pursed his lips and lifted his wand.
To her surprise, he smiled. "Even as a student, Thorfinn never properly appreciated art. I suspect this would only give him nightmares. Better to protect him from himself. Obliviate." Rowle's head lit up briefly.
Only then did he look at Ginny, the smile still on his face, though she could see it was but a poor mask. His eyes revealed the same concern and fear that she'd caught in his voice. "Now, I am quite certain you don't feature in my dreams, Miss Weasley. People would get the wrong ideas otherwise. But if I saw you, I'd inform you that the next Slug Club is cancelled. Hardly the time for parties, isn't it? And steer clear of this one… Honestly, to send Rookwood and Rowle… It's a miracle he didn't send Greyback too."
And without another word, Slughorn took the two boys by the arm and left her alone in the hallway, with the graffiti and the obliviated Rowle. Just like that, it had all been solved. But why hadn't she thought of the memory charm? Why had her first instinct been to kill?
Because you're a traumatised, dangerous child. Remember what you did to Nott? You just want people to suffer. It's part of the reason I like you.
A/N: I'd like to thank everyone for the kind reviews and insightful pm's so far, it's spurred me on to slowly begin on book 3. Who knows, we might see the end of the trilogy before the end of the year